PS 3507 
.Y4 V5 
1915 
Copy 1 



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i6ion 
of Hnton 



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Malter H. B^er 



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mblte plains, m. 1^. 

January . 1915 



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1Repr<nte^ from "Ube IRfcbcr Xffe" witb tbc 
courteous permission of tbe author an& tbe pubs 
lisbers. Copsrigbtcb, 1914 b? ^be pilgrim Press 

Ussucb in tbis form witb achnowlc^ament6 
to tbe lEMtors of Ube Craftsman, to Doublebav:, 
paqe anJ) dompanig, an^ to tbe 36rotbers of tbe 
aSool; 



Xlbe IDision 
of Hnton 



©NCE upon a time there lived a 
near-sighted and obscure clock- 
maker in an ancient town in 
Flanders. It was in fourteen huhdred 
and something, at about the time when 
new continents were being discovered, 
and old continents were being ran- 
sacked for whatever might serve to 
enrich the life of Europe. We call it 
the period of the Renaissance, and this 
is the story of the renaissance of 
Anton, the Flemish clock-maker. 



HNTON was apprentice to an old 
craftsman who made clocks to 
help very rich people to know the time 
of day. No one but the rich could 
afford to buy clocks in those days, so 
the old clock-maker needed but one 
assistant. They were crude clocks 
with but one hand, but they served the 
purpose. Anton, however, had a soul 
in his body, and he became very tired 
of bending eternally over his work 
bench, making one-handed clocks for 
people he didn't know. His was a 
restless sort of soul, but a starved one, 
and it didn't know how to show Anton 
the way to better things. 

So Anton decided to find out for 
himself. As he went about the streets 
of a Sunday he heard of the good gray 
monks that lived beyond the hill. Ke 
was told that they were wise and kind, 
and that they made sure their entrance 
into Heaven by many prayers and 



much fasting. They were so good that 
they had time enough left from their 
prayers to engage in scholarly pur- 
suits. In short, they lived an ideal kind 
of existence and one that Anton thought 
would satisfy the cravings of his soul. 

So one day Anton left the old clock- 
maker and journeyed over the hill to 
the monastery of the good gray monks. 
They took him in as a lay brother and 
set him to weeding the garden; but 
soon they learned that he was skilled 
with tools, and they gave him the task 
of building the new altar in the chapel. 

When the altar was nearly finished 
the abbot of the monastery came to 
Anton and said: "My son, I perceive 
that thou hast much cunning. Canst 
thou carve a legend for the front of the 
altar?" 

"I can. Father," said Anton. 

So the abbot sought for a legend 
that would fit the space on the front of 



the altar, and after much searching he 
brought to Anton this: 

"Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
ple perish." 

Anton accordingly selected a piece 
of hard, close-grained oak, and began 
to carve the legend. Now Anton pos- 
sessed enough of the craftsman's soul 
to make him strive to carve the legend 
well, and he spent many days and took 
infinite pains. And as he worked he 
said the words over and over to him- 
self: 

"Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
ple perish." 

He found himself wondering what 
these words meant, and as he carved 
his perplexity grew upon him. At last 
he could contain himself no longer, 
and he went to the abbot. "Holy 
Father," said he, "I am much troubled 
to knov/ the meaning of the words 
thou hast given me to carve." 



Now the abbot had selected the 
legend without great thought. It 
sounded well, and it was the right 
length. So he made answer lightly. 
"Those, my son, are the words of a 
Wise Man of old. They refer to that 
divine guidance which saves men's 
souls, and which comes only through 
prayer and fasting." 

But Anton had prayed and fasted, 
and no Vision had come to him. 

He asked his brother monks to 
explain the words to him, but they 
could not satisfy him, and Anton 
nearly went mad in the endeavour to 
understand. 

When the carving was complete and 
the altar finished, Anton found no more 
work that interested him. He looked 
about him, and saw the monks feast- 
ing and fasting, praying and working, 
but he could not discover to what 
purpose. 



*'li it be true that without a Vision 
the people perish," he said to himself, 
"shall we not all perish? Not even 
the good gray monks have a Vision. 
They know not what a Vision is." 

So gradually he became dissatisfied 
with the monotonous life of the good 
gray monks, and their tiresome pray- 
ers and fastings to save their souls, 
until at last he could stand it no longer, 
and, never having taken the vows, he 
left the monastery. It v/as then that 
he bethought himself of the old clock- 
maker for whom he had worked in the 
town. Ke remembered how wise he 
was, and he sought the familiar shop. 
The old clock-maker was glad of the 
return of so good a workman, and 
received him joyfully. Then Anton 
told his story — ^how he had longed for 
something to satisfy his soul, how he 
had failed to find it even among 
the good gray monks, and how the 



words of the legend had perplexed 
him. 

Then spake the wise old clock-maker. 
"A Vision," quoth he, "is something 
good and lofty and desirable which the 
soul may see, and having not, may 
reach forth to obtain. Without a 
Vision the body may live, but the soul 
is starved. It is death in life. Men 
may eat, and drink, and sleep, and 
laugh, and work, and quarrel, and beget 
children, and die, but all to no purpose. 
They might as well die in the first 
place, and so the Wise Man saith, 
'Without a Vision, the people perish.' " 

"And what may I do to get a Vision^ 
that I may live?" asked Anton. "He 
that seeketh, findeth," replied the 
clock-maker. 

"Where shall I seek?" asked Anton. 
"At thine own work bench," was the 
ansv/er. "Thou hast been to the mon- 
astery of the good gray monks and 



found no Vision there. Thou may'st 
travel the world over, and no Vision 
will reward thy search. Look within 
thy heart, Anton, even into its hidden 
corners. Whatsoever thou findest that 
is good and worthy, examine it. Thus 
wilt thou find thy Vision. Do thy 
daily work, Anton, and let thy Vision 
find thee working. Then shalt thou 
be ready to receive it, and the meaning 
o£ thy life and work will be made clear 
to thee." 

Anton marvelled at the words of the 
wise old man, and pondered them in 
his heart as he went back to work at 
his bench. And every day he talked 
with the old clock-maker, and strove 
to learn, until at last the light broke 
in upon him, and he understood. For 
the meaning of the legend appears 
only through much thought and self- 
examination. 

A day came when the old clock- 



maker arose no more from his bed, and 
Anton took his place as master of the 
shop. "Now," he said, "I will see if I 
can find a way to work with a Vision,, 
for I know it is better than to work 
without one." 

Every Sunday he went through the 
market place and talked with his 
fellow-townsmen. He found that there 
were many things good and lofty and 
desirable that were lacking in their 
lives, but he could discover no way to 
supply them. His soul was reaching 
forth, but it had not yet laid hold on a 
Vision. 

One day in his shop, however, a 
Vision came to him. It was a little 
Vision, to be sure, but it was a begin- 
ning. 

"I cannot give bread to all the poor, 
or bring happiness to the miserable," 
he said. "I know only how to make 
clocks. So I will make a clock for the 



people, that they may have what only 
the rich may buy.'* 

So he set to work and built a huge 
clock, with two hands, like one he had 
seen that came from the South. Its 
face was two cubits across, and it was 
fashioned to run in all weathers. Be- 
neath the face he carved and painted a 
legend : 

"Where there is no Vision, the peo- 
ple perish." 

In twelve months the clock was 
done, and he received permission to 
place it on the tower in the market 
place, where all men might see it and 
read the time of day. Many came and 
saw, and learned to tell the time from 
the figures on the dial, and the clock 
became famous throughout Flanders. 

But there were many in the country- 
side who seldom came to the town, 
and so never were benefited by the 
clock, and it occurred to Anton one 



day that the reason for this was that 
the roads were so poor. He was now 
a man of substance and influence in the 
town, so he went to the burgomaster 
and told him that he would like to 
build better roads for the country peo- 
ple to use in coming to town. It took 
him a long time to make the fat burgo- 
master see this Vision, but at last he 
succeeded, and the upshot of the matter 
was that in a few years there were fine, 
smooth roads running in all directions. 
Anton's fame spread throughout 
Flanders, and to make a long story 
short, the king at last sent for him and 
made him a counsellor at the royal 
palace. This gave him a chance to 
broaden his Vision. He saw a greater 
and a happier Flanders, with the people 
prosperous in trade and industry and 
art, and when he died, full of years and 
honour, he left Flanders a better place 
because of his Vision. 



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